


Coda: Doughnuts, Discoveries And Decency (1939-1941)

by Cerdic519



Series: Elementary 221B [311]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1930s, Alternate Universe - 1940s, Death from Old Age, Doctor Who References, Donuts, Embarrassment, F/M, Family, Heaven, London, M/M, Minor Character Death, Period Typical Attitudes, Police, Sussex, Trains, World War II, Writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2019-11-29 12:27:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18223157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: ֍ The Holmes and Watson lineages continued: the early War years in which Great Britain works itself into penury in order to help free Europe from Nazi German oppression (see under Noble Deeds For Which No Gratitude Or Restitution Payments Were Ever Received, Volumes One To Three). There are some unexpected finds in a shed, Mrs. God spreads a little happiness plus a whole lot of exhaustion, a young man does not get all steamed up, for one policeman Heaven can't wait while another looks back at the better side of humanity.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bookworm4ever81](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookworm4ever81/gifts).



**1939**

**Casdene, East Sussex, England**

Benjamin Watson looked around the cottage and smiled. It was so very his late grandfathers.

“It is far better than our house”, he told his wife Gwen who was placing little Johnnie in his cot. “It is a good thing that we inherited the car as well though, being so far from the town and the nearest railway station.”

“It is definitely a place fitted out for two gentlemen”, she agreed, “but it will make a good home for us.”

Ben knew the unspoken fact behind her words, namely that after Johnnie's difficult birth the doctors had advised his wife against having any more children. But with three sons two of whom were named after his grandfather and his grandfather's lover who had lived and loved in this place, the Watson line seemed safe enough. Little Hamon tottered along after his mother - “I _am_ two, daddy; I can walk on my own!' - and Johnnie was asleep in his carry-cot so Ben looked round for their eldest son.

“Where is Sherlock?” he asked.

“Probably like his famous namesake, investigating”, Gwen smiled. “You know what he is like.”

The subject of their conversation came in from the garden at that moment, holding what looked like a display plaque. He turned it around and his father's face went bright red.

“Daddy”, the boy said frowning, “why has someone put ladies' underwear on this wooden thing?”

His wife falling about laughing was no help either. Ben sighed; even in death those two rapscallions were a total embarrassment!

֍


	2. Chapter 2

**1940 (Earth-time)**

**Heaven**

God barely raised an eyebrow at the sight of his demonic son sleeping on the sofa. Even the soft clatter of the Wife typing away did not disturb the devil from his slumbers.

“Gadreel broke him _again?”_ He asked dryly.

“Dear Luke likes to be broken”, She smiled, missing Her husband's wince. “It really is all go around here; I popped over to see my sweet little cutesy-wootsy earlier but he and his hunter are still hard at it a year on. Very hard in our son's case.”

God winced again. Him above!

“Where is Gadreel?” He asked, desperate to change the subject.

“Lucius Holmes, the brother of my sweet little cutesy-wootsy's vessel Sherlock, has also passed”, She said. “What with the fellow having been so kind and his young love still having years left, I thought that he would like something to pass the time.”

“You loosed an angel on a mere human?” God asked, surprised. “At least with what was left of Luke there he was sort of prepared. Poor Lucius Holmes will not know what hit him!”

“Not to worry”, She said brightly. “Gadreel can fuck him into a state of bliss and then get back to work on Luke here. And he says that he had a whole new box of 'toys' from his time on earth.”

Even in his sleep the devil moaned in terror. God would have asked the obvious next question, but The Thing With The Swinging Balls was still shaking slightly so evidently Castiel had not finished...... That.

֍


	3. Chapter 3

_(Vladimir Henriksen is the youngest of Valiant Henriksen I's twenty – TWENTY! - sons and hence the late Victor Henriksen I's great-nephew)._

**1941**

**Liverpool Street Railway Station, London, England**

Mr. Philip Kent, General Manager of the Eastern Area of the London and North Eastern Railway Company, fixed the dark-skinned young man standing before him with a sharp look. That innocent smile did not fool him for one moment.

“Mr. Henriksen”, he said heavily. “Would you happen to know anything about a certain incident involving several boys from around the yard and a large sack of coal dust?”

Vladimir Henriksen continued to look suitably bemused. 

“No sir”, he said roundly.

The manager sensed that he was telling the truth, because having spoken to the fellow before he knew that he blushed easily. 

“Only it seems that moments after these boys were heard casting racial slurs at you while you were on your engine, they were attacked and had so much coal-dust poured over them that they were, in the words of their attackers, 'blacker than the Impaler'.”

“I would not know about that, sir”, Vladimir said. “I was on my engine. Ask Charlie, my fireman.”

“Hmm”, Mr. Kent said. “Well, I suppose that these things do happen. And to the most unpleasant of people as well. Some of their parents have complained so I had to say that I would look into it. You had better get back to your engine.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Vladimir bowed and left the office. Only when he was safely outside did he allow himself a slight smile. He owed the fellows jam doughnuts all round for that. There might even be one left over for him.

֍

There was.

֍


	4. Chapter 4

**1941**

**Allonby, Cumberland, England**

Seventy-two year-old Chatton Smith sighed as he sank back into his favourite chair. It felt almost like old times, except that the muscular behemoth standing opposite him was not his beloved Fray, who they had just laid to rest after over ninety glorious years of existence, but the latter's adoptive great-grandson Fraser III, twenty-three years old and invalided out of the Army after the North Africa campaign.

“I only wish his boys could have come”, Chatton sighed. “If I had told them, I know they would have tried. But with the seas the way they are just now I could not ask that of them.”

“They will understand”, Fraser said soothingly. “You will want to stay on here, I suppose.”

He did not mention the blazing row he had just had with his brother Edgar about the latter's wish to sell the house. The little toad was as narrow-minded as he was dog-ugly and Fraser had promised his great-grandfather that he would let his lover live out the rest of his days here. Said great-grandfather had also cut the little toad out of his will, which would be interesting when that was read later on that same day.

“This was our home, here and the old house”, Chatton smiled. “Fray and I were happy, and now he is gone.”

“No doubt he is up there already”, Fraser smiled, thinking of his utterly disreputable great-grandfather. “You... will be all right?”

Chatton smiled at the unspoken question.

“I am not thinking of doing anything foolish, you mean”, he said. “My time will come, then I will be with him again. Thank you Fraser, and thank Maud for me as well, for everything.”

Fraser kissed his great-grandfather's lover and bade him farewell, wondering as he left how the old man would cope. He and his great-grandfather had been together for over fifty years, through thick and thin. How would he manage alone?

He was halfway down the street before he let out an oath. The legal papers that he had put in his pocket; he had been supposed to leave them with his grandfather's lover. Sighing he walked swiftly back, letting himself in with his key as quietly as possible in case the old man had fallen asleep.....

Oh.

Chatton Smith had indeed fallen asleep. For the last time.

“I hope you're happy, Chas”, Fraser whispered. “Though I doubt Heaven knows just what is about to hit it when you and Great-grandfather get back together!”

֍


	5. Chapter 5

**1941**

**Mayfair, London, England**

Superintendent Odin D'Arcy rose to his feet amid the usual applause.

“Thanks for that introduction, Mark”, he said. “I shall keep this fairly short as these days we do not know when the next air-raid is coming, but I did want to give thanks to two people without whom I could not have gotten where I am today. One is of course my late father, whose passing last year was I know marked across the police service as the loss of a popular and charismatic leader. The other is the gentleman who helped and supported him throughout much of his career, another fellow without whom we are so much the poorer, Mr. Sherlock Holmes.”

“As we fight for humanity's future against the evil of Nazi Germany I think it particularly important that we remember the likes of Mr. Holmes, who was humanity at its finest and who stood for all the things that we British stand for in these our darkest hours. He once told me that one of his most memorable cases concerned two people at extreme opposite ends of society, a top nobleman and a humble public servant, and yet each did what good they could with whatever each had. Let us remember that example and strive to help each other, until Hitler is finally destroyed and we walk forward into those broad sunlit uplands that await us in the post-war world. Thank you.”

֍


	6. Chapter 6

_(John Watson II is the younger brother of Benjamin Watson II from the first story in this section. They are twenty-nine and thirty respectively)._

**1941**

**Casdene, East Sussex, England**

“I'm surprised Gwen didn't demand you repaint the thing”, John said, eyeing the bright blue shed with disfavour. “I'm sure it can be seen from he village.”

His elder brother sighed.

“That was the point of the light on the top”, Ben said, blushing. “When it flashed everyone knew... you 'know'.”

John winced. His grandfather's reputation for that sort of thing was legend. He 'knew'.

“I wonder why a Police Box, though”, he said.

“James told me”, Ben said. “Apparently they went to London for an exhibition some time in the thirties, Grandfather remarked that the box was too small to do anything with really so they..... you know.”

“My grandfather did what?” 

Both men turned quickly. Five-year-old Sherlock had come up behind them quite unnoticed.

“Helped him out with repair work”, Ben said quickly.

“Good save!” his brother muttered.

“I see”, young Sherlock said. “I suppose that was why they had that thing they called a sonic screwdriver, the one that made you go so red, Father.”

The boy walked away. Ben was not sure, but he suspected that there was something of a smirk on his son's face.

֍


End file.
